We've all woken up in a stranger's bed with a sense of deep shame. Only The Divine Comedy would dare set that to an orchestra.
Disturbing talk of blindfolds! Family trauma! CHIME-Y BITS! It's a Mew Christmas... *books flight to Denmark*
Christmas time is here -and there's no better way to kick it off than with a faintly depressing song about snowfall not amounting to very much. The gorgeous, timeless and plain brilliant Just Like Christmas by Low.
In which we imagine a PWL theme park, complete with a rampaging gene-spliced Sinitta.
America had loved them for a decade, but in the UK there was a total eclipse of Heart until 1987.
A (chart) countdown conundrum for the ages: why isn't Solange a superstar?
Pop abhors a vacuum, so it's a brave person who takes five years to follow up their debut album. Stewart on the bulletproof (but not time-proof) La Roux.
Danny Wilson and the problem with perfection - how Mary's Prayer turned into a curse.
Belgian pop with a cinematic twist? Ca plane pour moi...
The success and ubiquity of some bands is a little perplexing, and Scottish synth pop specialists CHVRCHΞS are a great example. To date they’ve had one ‘hit’ (The Mother We Share, no.38) […]
Now That's What I Call Stalking.
Luke gets a lesson in anatomy from Florence Welch and discusses the art of single picking.
Or: how to write a memorial without getting maudlin.